


[mithrax voice] the child

by Arcaydes



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, mithrax's edgy vandal days, will be updated as author has ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcaydes/pseuds/Arcaydes
Summary: Collection of short stories depicting moments between Mithrax and his daughter. Bungie won't give me more lore about them so I'll do it myself
Kudos: 16





	1. Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is supposed to take place immediately after the Truth lore tab, so I'd recommend brushing up on that first if you haven't read it in a while.

Dark clouds began to move overhead. A cold wind sent a shiver to the lone Vandal’s core. Gingerly, he looked overhead as daylight began to leave the wreckage of the crashed skiffs. 

A small hiss from his recent… ‘discovery’ reminded him of his haste. He peered again into the bundle in his palms- a shivering mound of fabric, torn from his own cloak, punctuated by the four wary eyes staring at him. He cursed under his breath and began to walk at a brisk pace, back toward the rescue parties.

Carefully navigating through ditches and valleys left by the skiffs, the vandal cradled the child with a gentleness betraying his own person. But despite his carefully-crafted visage of scrutiny, he found his own mind wandering.

He thought he could just bring the child back to the Tall Woman, but…

The Vandal sighed out of frustration and worry. What good would the Tall Woman know of raising a child of his own kind? While he himself may not be the ‘comforting’ or ‘nurturing’ type… it couldn’t be  **that** hard. He could just replicate the actions of his own mother.

A bitter taste appeared in his mouth, after that thought. If the way his mother raised him led to him disgracing himself  _ and _ her, then…

A quiet yelp emerged from his chest as he stumbled over a stray piece of steel in the dirt. Scrambling to stay upright, he waved his secondary arms wildly in an effort to reorient himself. 

...In a struggle to both maintain his balance and the scraps of his honor, he stuck a leg out boldly, steadying himself in a show of confidence and physical capability. Of course, no one was watching.

Quickly collecting himself, the Vandal softly checked the child, still in his palms. Her eyes had retreated into the scrap, with a tremble stronger than before.

The Vandal wrapped his secondary hands around the mound in an attempted show of comfort. He closed his eyes, barely curling in on himself. A quiet whisper, one of a promise to protect her. 

Heavy steps from his side earned a yelp of surprise from the Vandal. A large hand clasped itself on his shoulder, with a force that could easily down any dreg. He looked to his side with wide eyes, ones reflected in the eyes of the Tall Woman staring at him, laughing. 

The Vandal squinted. Great.


	2. family picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vandal spends a night under the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: pretend any text in bold is in eliksni.

The dying crackling of the fire brought the Vandal out of his thoughts. Mindlessly, he tossed a chunk of fossilized wood into the blaze, and watched as the fire regained its strength. He wrapped a set of arms around his legs, shrinking into himself in a moment of calm beneath the dark skies.

The Vandal couldn’t help but think of his mother, even if he wished for her to forget him. He grumbled to himself, cursing himself for the mistakes that brought him here. But at the same time…

A quiet exhaustion laced its way across his eyes, as he turned slightly to look at the four tiny eyes, gleaming back at him. 

Sighing, the Vandal reached into his pack, pulling out a scrap of dried meat. He gently placed it in front of the child, who curiously eyed the food with an eagerness unexpected of a hatchling. 

He quietly watched as the child nibbled the meat, her tiny eyes furrowing in effort as her dull fangs caught on the edges.

Realizing that a child so young wouldn’t be able to easily eat something so tough, the Vandal mentally hit himself at that revelation. 

Gently taking the scrap of meat back, the Vandal moved to tear tiny, bite-sized chunks of the meat from the larger scrap. He scooped the bites back into his palm and placed his hand down, in front of the child.

An almost undetectable look of fondness flashed in his eyes, as he watched the child slowly crawl into his palm once more and happily take pecks at his handiwork.

Waves of loneliness washed over the Vandal, as again, he was reminded of his mother. He wondered if she, too, had felt this kind of fondness for him? His eyes darkened as he asked himself if this is how it was like, when he was younger?

Would his mother still care for him, even though he’s failed?

The sound of footsteps brought him out of his thoughts, snapping him into attention as he instinctively tensed. He knew his camp was safe, but…

“Mithrax?”

Ah. The Tall Woman, again.

The Vandal relaxed, even if only slightly. 

“Misraaks.” He eyed her suspiciously, as she sat down at the other side of the fire, with some sort of ornate container in hand.

“Have you eaten yet?”

He’s learned a smidgen of her kind’s tongue, since his meeting her. He looks away, slightly, to conceal his expression as best he could. But, damn that woman, she could see right through him, sometimes.

“Knowing you, that means no. Lucky for you, though…” She raised the container she held. “I’ve brought enough for you, too.”

The Vandal turned back to look at the Tall Woman. A look of suspicion crossed his eyes, but even more than that, was curiosity. That was progress, she figured.

“I’m no expert on what the Eliksni eat, but… apparently some of the ingredients in this are similar to what most Eliksni have available.” She pulled two bowls out of a bag, and after spooning some of the container’s contents into one, pushed it towards the Vandal.

The Vandal slowly retracted his hand from his side, with the child already having long moved back to her mound, and carefully inspected the bowl. He could vaguely recognize shapes of vegetables in the flickering orange light, but the aroma smelled familiar, almost akin to what was eaten on his skiff.

Well… former skiff.

He mumbled a word of thanks, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the Tall Woman, attempting to shield himself from the illusion of scrutiny that he convinced himself is in her gaze.

They ate largely in silence, save for the crackling of the fire, and quiet sipping of stew. 

The Vandal, much to his displeasure, was dragged back to thinking about his mother.

He paused, looking up from his bowl. “Siyuriks.” 

“What is it?” One of her eyebrows arched upwards. 

Struggling to find the proper words, he spoke as best he could.

“Siyuriks… mother. Did mother...” The Vandal realized he didn’t know the word, in the other tongue. “ **Still love Siyuriks, even if you caused her grief?** ”

Siyuriks set her bowl down, seemingly in thought. He lips pursed slightly, as she looked into the fire. Every passing second felt like a new torment for the Vandal, who was faced with the new fear that he had misspoken.

“Well…” She began slowly. “I don’t know my parents. So… I wouldn’t know, myself.”

The Vandal sighed, quietly. Figures.

“But…” Siyuriks continued. “If…  _ I _ had a child, I’d still love them, even if they went against my wishes.”

“Shouldn’t a mother be there, for her child?”

The Vandal looked away, leaving only silence.

As an act of unspoken camaraderie, Siyuriks decided not to press him for answers. She leaned back, and gazed up at the stars overhead. She can guess why he asked.

He supposes he could be thankful for that, at least.


End file.
